


front row seat

by bickz



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Crispin Blackall, Established Relationship, First Time, Morris Haley, Morrígan Le Fay, Multi, Original Fiction, Polyamory, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Self-Indulgent, Shameless Smut, Simultaneous Orgasm, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bickz/pseuds/bickz
Summary: Morrígan was a fool to think that they could ever have a moment of peace as long as Crispin and Morris are around.
Relationships: Original D&D Character(s)/Original D&D Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	front row seat

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAH this was supposed to be a tiny little self-indulgent oc PWP that spiraled out of control (LIKE USUAL)
> 
> ...IM SORRY

‘Awkward encounters’ don’t really exist once you find yourself in a rather comfortable relationship with two other people. Walking in on each other in all manners of dress and amidst all sorts of actions just kinda becomes normal after a while. Actually, Morrígan had thought that adjusting to Morris’s morbid obsession with the dead (and undead) or coping with Crispin’s dizzyingly sparse sense of self-preservation would be the most difficult parts of their coexistence, but they could not have been more wrong.

It’s not until Morrígan finds themself straddling a half-dressed Crispin, one bare thigh on either side of his hips, that they’re utterly blindsided for the first time by just how truly strange this… _ whatever  _ it is they have going on is. Crispin has one hand (the hard, cool metal one) on Morrígan’s hip, massaging his thumb into the bone, while the other one (warm and calloused) slides its way up their exposed stomach and chest. A muffled moan escapes Morrígan’s mouth as they swivel their hips, pressing down against Crispin’s growing excitement barely contained beneath his briefs. They’re totally preoccupied, overcome by want and need, that they could care less about much of anything else right now.

So, when Crispin speaks up, his voice low and raspy with lust, Morrígan doesn’t quite register what he says right away. They grind down once more, enjoying the warmth building between their legs with every movement, each caress--

“Wait, what was that?” Morrígan halts abruptly, blinking in confusion at Crispin's shit-eating grin. 

Crispin clears his throat before he repeats himself, “Uh, I asked if you wouldn’t mind an audience?” This time Morrígan definitely does hear what he says, yet they still can’t seem to digest the words. They honestly should have expected this type of shit sooner.

“Who’s watching us?” Morrígan sighs, not necessarily upset -- not angry, no, just…exasperated. Because they know that no matter how they respond, Crispin already has some sort of inevitable plan in action. 

Crispin smiles wider, toothy and conniving, a look that makes Morrígan’s heart flutter traitorously with excitement. “Morris,” he says, loud enough to indicate that he’s not just talking to the sorcerer anymore. 

And just like that, the wizard in question phases into reality (that fucking Invisibility spell), seated on the edge of a chair now very obviously placed across from the bed on purpose. Morris is curled in on himself and won’t look up at them when Morrígan turns in his direction. Sympathy washes over Morrígan as they look at the nervous blond, wondering just how much of this was actually Crispin’s scheming.

“I swear this was all Morris’s idea, luv,” Crispin insists, as if he can read Morrígan’s mind.

Morris’s head shoots up, his face beet red and a look of total betrayal in his big green eyes.

“I don’t really care whose idea it was,” Morrígan explains with a stern look down at Crispin, somehow still hard and needy beneath them. “All that matters to me is that  _ all _ of us are comfortable with this.”

“I-I did suggest th-this…well, I didn’t a-actually  _ suggest _ it per say-- I-I had just mentioned, um…that I w-would like to…” Morris fumbles, and when Morrígan looks over at him once more, he has a handful of his robes in each fist and is wringing at the fabric anxiously.

“Morris, hun, it’s okay. You wanna watch?" Morrígan interrupts, voice soft, gentle, as if they're trying to calm a wild rabbit.

Morris freezes before slowly looking up to meet Morrígan's gaze, deathly quiet as he swallows hard and gives a definitive nod. And that’s all Morrígan needs to see. They grin as they maintain eye contact with Morris and deliberately grind themself against a very eager Crispin. The sound of the artificer groaning echoes in the room, and Morrígan is more than pleased to see the way Morris’s eyes widen, the way his lips quirk upwards excitedly, the telltale way he presses his legs together. 

“Well, fine; just this once,” Morrígan agrees before turning to face the man below them. 

Crispin delights in Morrígan’s enthusiasm, reaching his warm hand up to grope at their small chest again, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over their nipple to elicit a sharp moan from the sorcerer. Even after all these years, Morrígan can never find a dull moment with their two dear loves. Right when they think that things have settled, that their life has finally fallen monotonous and grey once more, Crispin and Morris still manage to surprise Morrígan, to remind them that they’re very much  _ alive  _ and definitely madly in love with two maniacs. 

As if their evening plans haven’t taken a strange turn, Crispin gets right back to work, pinching and rolling Morrígan’s nipple between his fingers to add fuel to the fire growing within them. The sorcerer lets out quiet moans as they continue to roll their hips against Crispin’s straining cock, getting wetter by the second. Before long, Morrígan is hopping off of their lover to toss away the last of their clothes, earning them a small gasp from Morris (as if he’s never seen either of them naked). With a grin, they look over to the wizard as they mount Crispin, reaching down to purposefully slide their own fingers through their slick cunt while Crispin holds his throbbing cock at the ready. Both of the men seem to enjoy the touch of exhibitionism, letting out simultaneous lustful sighs.

“Maybe we should do this more often, luv?” Crispin murmurs, giving himself a good pump as he watches his lover appreciatively. 

“Hm, I think maybe next time we’ll tie you up and leave you to watch,” Morrígan replies with a devilish smirk that goes straight to Crispin’s dripping dick. “What do you think, Morris?”

There’s something like a squeak that comes from Morris, yet it’s obvious by his love-drunk smile that he doesn’t seem totally opposed to it. Crispin opens his mouth to give some quip or protest or whatever, but Morrígan doesn’t let him speak as they lower themself onto the tip of his eager member. All that comes out is a gut-punched groan as Crispin lets his head fall back while Morrígan sinks down, slowly, inch by delicious inch. Morrígan smirks, pleased with both of their lovers’ responses, and also with how beautifully Crispin fills them, fitting inside their tight heat so perfectly, as if they were made to slot together. 

This is the part Morrígan enjoys the most. Normally, Crispin is so talkative and scatter-brained, always ready with some sort of dizzying banter. But when the sorcerer has him pinned beneath them, completely and utterly at their mercy like this, it’s hard to not feel powerful. With each movement of their hips, the usually oh so clever Crispin is reduced to a puddle of groans and shivers. He desperately digs his fingers into Morrígan’s thighs and ass, seeking leverage and anything to ground himself, to keep himself from spiralling into some sex-induced craze. Each time Crispin gets a little too eager, seeks to plunge himself deeper and fuck into Morrígan without abandon, the sorcerer plants their hands on his chest and pulls back, gives him a mean lopsided smirk to remind him of who’s in control here. It’s an insanely cruel yet effective game they like to play.

And one that Morris has never quite been privy to (at least, not like this). So, as he watches from his front row seat, as Crispin’s thick cock disappears into Morrígan’s wet cunt over and over, the room quickly filling with obscene squelches, the wizard can’t help getting painfully hard. Hell, he was aroused before they even started, was sporting a chub as he snuck in here nearly a half-hour ago to watch the foreplay. But, for some godsforsaken reason, Morris can’t shake the shame that clutches his poor heart, makes him feel light-headed and sick. He knows he shouldn’t be watching his two loves like this, shouldn’t want to get off on seeing them fuck ( _ gods _ , he nearly died when he realised that he had drunkenly told Crispin about his sexual fantasies -- and then again when Crispin  _ agreed _ to this), yet he can’t help the pressure deep in his groin every time he hears either of them groan, seeing the flush on their faces, is transfixed by the sight of Crispin teasing Morrígan’s clit and the resulting way in which the sorcerer’s thick thighs stutter. 

“Morris, hun, you okay?” Morrígan’s voice breaks through the blond’s pitiful thoughts, forces him to meet those ethereal grey hues. Morrígan is arched so beautifully, their flushed chest rising and falling with airy moans, eyes half-lidded as they languidly ride Crispin. 

“I--I’m--” Morris sputters. He wants to lie, doesn’t want to interrupt this, but he knows that they’ll see right through him.

“C’mere, luv,” Crispin coos with a warm, welcoming smile, even as Morrígan grinds down against him, deep enough to draw out moans from both of them. “Come join us?”

Before Morris can doubt himself, he’s standing up, hands nervously covering his very obvious (but justified) hard-on. Morrígan beckons him over with an open, out-stretched hand, and Morris can’t find a logical reason to refuse, to not reach out and let himself be guided up onto the bed with his loves. He’s a shaking mess as he carefully kneels on the mattress beside them, but Morrígan is quick to soothe the wizard, to reach up, pulling him down to their height and cup his face in their hands and smother his shame with adoring kisses.

“You’re such a good boy,” Morrígan whispers right against Morris’s ear, licking along the shell all the way to the tip. “It’s going to be okay -- we’ve got you.”

Morris quivers under the attention, a violent blush creeping up his neck as his heart threatens to burst right out of his chest; he can feel his fears beginning to melt away…until something icy cold snakes its way under his robes to touch his knee. Crispin smiles apologetically as he caresses the wizard’s bare leg with his mechanical hand, and he even waits for a small nod of approval before continuing his exploration up the other man’s thigh, gradually pushing his robes further and further up, and it doesn’t take long for the feel of cool metal on his overheated skin to make Morris’s dick twitch with interest. Just something else that he’s learning about himself tonight. 

Once Morrígan feels that they have thoroughly kissed every inch of Morris’s neck and jaw, they greedily turn his head to capture his lips in a deep, tender kiss, lazily exploring his mouth as they continue to ride Crispin’s cock, with less fervor than before this new distraction, but still definitely fully sheathed. Morris kinda feels bad for slowing things down, for coming between the two so suddenly in the height of their activities when he intended to just be a bystander in all of this, but by the pleased noises still reverberating in the room, maybe this isn’t so bad? If he wasn’t wanted, surely he wouldn’t be here right now.

“Morris, hun, can we undress you?” Morrígan speaks up, breathless against his wet lips. The room has gone eerily still, the pair no longer fucking into each other as they initiate the blond into their tryst.

Morris blinks a few times, his brain too foggy with lust before he gives another consenting nod. Crispin and Morrígan both grin, and are quick to pull Morris’s robes up and over his head and tug his briefs down his pale thighs. As his clothes are discarded on the floor, Morris is left kneeling beside the pair, looking away and hunched forward as he tries to cover his neglected erection, unsure of what he’s supposed to do now. Him and Crispin never talked about this part, and honestly if the wizard had known that he was gonna get ganged up on, he may never have agreed to try this. 

But Morrígan wastes no time in coaxing Morris closer until his knees bump against Crispin’s ribs, the artificer bringing his mechanical arm around to comfortably, encouragingly settle on the small of the other man’s back. The sorcerer gently removes the blond’s hands from guarding his crotch and gives him a reassuring smile before wrapping their small hand around his dick. And all of the air in Morris’s lungs comes whooshing out in a high-pitched whine, as if he’s never been touched before (it’s only been a few weeks,  _ jeez _ ). Morrígan is slow and gentle as they work at their lover’s generous cock, barely touching him and still managing to cause precum to leak down his tip. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said he was big,” Crispin comments in awe, glancing up to meet Morris’s mortified stare. 

_ They’ve talked about his dick?! _

Morris would very much like to die right now.

“He’s absolutely exquisite, isn’t he?” Morrígan adds reverently. There’s a distinct hunger in their eyes as they look down at Morris’s dick, leisurely fisting it.

Morrígan would be lying if they said that they didn’t love making Morris squirm like this. He’s always so nervous, yet eager to please. And that’s why Morrígan makes sure to reward and praise Morris so that he knows just how wonderful he truly is, so that maybe he’ll grow more confident every time until he can act upon his own urges without feeling like he has to just watch and wait for someone else to pick him out of pity.

“What a pretty sight,” Crispin breathes as he watches Morrígan stroke Morris’s cock, absolutely mesmerised. He reaches out his warm hand to join in, and lets out a chuckle when Morris startles at the calloused finger against his sensitive tip. “Is this okay?”

Morris quickly nods, unable to contain the undeniable need rising within him. He doesn’t know how Crispin does it, still plunged deep within Morrígan without any release yet. Just watching them fool around almost brought Morris over the edge, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to last much longer with the two of them getting so handsy with him, staring at him with those hungry eyes. The blond can’t help weakly thrusting into the tight circle of Morrígan’s hand, letting out the most pathetic little sob when Crispin reaches around to fondle his balls.

“G- _ guys _ , I’m--” 

“Shhh, it’s fine, hun,” Morrígan coos, rolling their hips against Crispin once more, clearly getting riled up by Morris’s moans. They pull the wizard closer, closer, until he’s being maneuvered by two pairs of hands to straddle Crispin’s chest. “We’ve got you. You’re doing great, my sweet.”

“Mhmm,  _ perfect _ ,” Crispin purrs out as he licks his lips. Somehow, Morris feels like he’s fallen right into one of the artificer’s nefarious traps. 

Wait…was Morrígan in on this one?

But it’s already too late to ponder who’s to blame. Morrígan presses themself flush against Morris’s back, wrapping their arms snugly around his chest while Crispin plants both of his strong hands on the wizard’s hips, firmly pinning him in place. Morris swears he feels his heart try to jump out of his throat when he looks down in time to see Crispin lean up as he effortlessly pulls the other man’s pelvis within range to--

“ _ C-Crispin--! _ ” Morris yelps as a tongue darts out to lap up the precum on his swollen cock. 

“It’ll be okay, Morris. Let him put his mouth to good use,” Morrígan teases, their words punctuated with a moan as they begin to build a new tempo on Crispin’s cock. They peek around Morris’s arm to watch Crispin lick up and down Morris’s long shaft, and they give an appreciative hum, “He’s quite good with his tongue.”

There’s a tiny voice in the back of Morris’s head telling him to pull away, to run away in utter embarrassment. But there’s an ever louder animalistic part of his brain growling for more, more,  _ more _ , that makes him only able to focus on the wet heat of Crispin’s tongue and lips and the heady moans of Morrígan on his back while they ride the artificer. If this is what heaven feels like, Morris kinda feels bad for shirking the will of God his entire life.

“You’re such a good boy,” Crispin groans as he opens wide, leaning forward to let more of Morris’s cock slide along his tongue and into his willing mouth. Bright eager blues meet hazy greens, and Morris didn’t think that he could fall so deeply in love with another person.

“Guys, I’m- _ I’m _ \--” Morris sobs around the hand he has clamped over his mouth. 

“Yes, hun? Does it feel nice? Are you going to be a good boy and cum for us?” Morrígan purrs as they kiss along Morris’s spine between heated moans. They slide their hands up and down the wizard’s chest until they find his nipples and begin to swirl their fingers over the hardening nubs, eliciting yet another needy whine. “It’s okay, hun. You’ve been so good; let us treat you.”

There’s no way Morris can last even a second longer. His hips involuntarily stutter forward with each fervent press of Crispin’s tongue along the underside of his dick, with every hot groan that washes over his tip, with each rough twist of those calloused fingers around his base. And to have Morrígan pressed so sweetly against his back, to have them working so diligently on his nipples and nerves, even as they bounce fervidly on Crispin’s cock, it’s enough to make liquid fire spread within Morris’s gut. He can feel himself teetering so close to the edge, trying to will it back, wanting this to last, to revel in this unbridled lust. 

Crispin can see the strain in the way Morris tenses up, sees his feeble effort to hold out, and the artificer grins impishly as he redoubles his efforts. There’s no way Crispin will let the blond go without reaching his climax, wanting to make him feel  _ good _ just as much as Morrígan does. Crispin presses forward, relaxing his jaw and throat as he endeavours to take as much of Morris’s length as possible. Whatever he can’t quite fit, he wraps his fingers around and pumps roughly while he attempts to suck the wizard’s soul out through his dick, earning him the sweetest, wettest of sobs. 

“C-Cris…” Morris groans. He needs to warn the other man, doesn’t want to further embarrass himself, but Crispin is relentless, his own desires and intentions very clear in the way he looks up with overwhelming excitement in his deep blues. 

And just like that, Morris is tumbling into whitehot ecstasy. He just barely registers the choked-off noise that escapes his lips as he spills down Crispin’s eager throat. But the positively obscene groan that Crispin lets out, the scarily salacious haze over his half-lidded gaze, the way he still manages to smirk while he sucks and laps and swallows every drop the wizard has to offer,  _ that _ Morris will never be able to forget, will haunt his dreams for years to come. 

“So good, our sweet boy,” Morrígan murmurs as their movements become erratic and desperate. Morris isn’t sure which one of them the sorcerer is talking about, but he feels his chest ache nonetheless.

“Shit, luv, ‘m close,” Crispin huffs breathlessly when he finally, mercifully pops off of Morris’s spent cock. He moves his hands to the wizard’s hips, pressing his thumbs into the bone hard (an action that makes Morris feel  _ something _ ). Crispin’s brow knits together in concentration, and Morris knows all too well what he’s going through right now. “Just like  _ that _ .”

Morrígan would normally take this opportunity to tease Crispin, to pull back and let him hang right on the cusp of his orgasm over and over again, but after the delicious debauchery they just witnessed, there’s no way they have the willpower for that right now. An intense heat sits low in Morrígan’s core, makes them grind down hard and deep on Crispin, seeking that spot that makes their body quiver so delightfully. They hold onto Morris for dear life as they roll their hips once, twice, and--

“ _ Fffuuuuuck _ ,” Morrígan keens, digging their nails into Morris’s soft flesh. The pressure in their gut snaps, and the overwhelming current of their climax threatens to pull them under. 

Right on cue, Crispin succumbs to his lust and bucks up into Morrígan’s spasming heat as they ride out their orgasm. The sorcerer whines with each pulse of Crispin’s cock deep inside of them, feeling themself overflow with  _ him _ . Despite how oversensitive they are, Morrígan continues to weakly roll their hips, greedily eating up Crispin’s almost pained groans. It’s not until the artificer plants a firm hand on Morrígan’s thigh that they finally stop the pleasant torture, gasping to catch their breath, but grinning wickedly.

“ _ Christ _ , that’s enough,” Crispin hisses. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he looks up at a bewitched Morris. “Ride’s over, yea?”

Morris just blinks, dazed, mind still foggy with the afterglow of his orgasm, trying to process what just happened. Did he really…? Morrígan snuggles up against the wizard’s back, sighing contently as their fingers roam over the bare expanse of his chest, and yea, that certainly definitely totally did just happen. He places a hand over the sorcerer’s and lets out a bemused chuckle, a giddy grin spreading across his face. Crispin gives Morris a light pat on his thigh and raises an eyebrow impatiently, to which the blond flusters and uneasily removes himself from the other man’s chest, and Morrígan groggily follows suit.

Instinct demands that Morris try to slink away from the others, to hide in post-coitous shame, but a calloused grip around his wrist pulls him back while a pair of smaller hands coax him down onto his back amongst all of the warm, soft pillows. Morris is a blushing mess as Morrígan hugs his face against their exposed breasts, but is soon soothed by the soft beating of their heart, by the feeling of their fingers in his long, golden locks. Even when Crispin curls up against Morris’s other side, casually slinging an arm across the wizard’s abdomen and trailing his fingers over the ridges of his ribs, Morris remains rather calm, manages to take a deep breath and remind himself that this is good, that everything is fine.

“So, change your mind, luv?” Crispin pipes up, quickly earning himself a grumble from Morrígan. 

“I told you -- next time we’re gonna tie  _ you  _ up, and then Morris and I are gonna have some fun,” Morrígan threatens coldly.

Morris squirms a bit between them, clearing his throat before he speaks up, “I-I don’t mind d-doing… _ it _ again -- just like this.”

Crispin sits up to flash Morris a disarming grin. “I knew I liked you for a reason, luv,” he teases before leaning up to press a hasty kiss to Morris’s mouth, totally short-circuiting the wizard.

Morrígan giggles as they give an adoring peck to Morris’s forehead, already exhausted by the thought of doing  _ this _ again with these two maniacs. Hm, maybe in a few hours… 


End file.
